Far from never
by zelzai
Summary: Believe it or not, there's nothing good in being able to hear what other people think… especially when they're thinking about killing someone. ON A HIATUS..
1. Cold hearted

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters!

**AN: **Well… here I go again. As much as I tried to put this new idea on hold until my other stories are finished, I just couldn't. Not sure, if anyone other than I would be into it at all, but I though why not give it a try.

So this story, if I decide to continue it, will have a bit of a supernatural twist.

I'm not sure, if it turns out as a Happy/OC or Jax/OC. Maybe a bit of both?

I'd also like to say that I will not ditch my other stories!

So without further ado, let's get this ball rolling.

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><p>Clair looked at the clock behind Johnny's head. He had been seeing her for three months already and yet there was no real progress. Yeah, he had learned the typical lines like 'I'm a changed man', 'That life's behind me' and so on. But she knew better than to fall for words that weren't real. She didn't even need her special ability, or as she liked to put it- her personal curse, to know that nothing had really changed when it came to his criminal tendencies.<p>

"I think our time's up for today, see you again next week," she gave him a small smile, hoping that the next time would bring with it a sense of improvement. Rising from behind her desk, Clair walked to her office's door. Opening it up while still keeping her eyes on Johnny, she motioned at the guard to come in and help him back to his cell.

She didn't like the way the guards shackled her patients to the table, but it was insisted by the head of the prison, and after all it was for her own safety.

"Till next time, doc," Johnny winked at her.

It was almost noon. Which meant it was time for her secret appointment.

Clair had been planning it for ages, but something had always kept her from making the call. Well 'something' was a misstatement. After all she was a shrink and knew well why she had a hard time with the decision. It meant that it really was over. Not that it hadn't already been that way for a while, but still it made it not only feel but also look final. Standing in front of her the small mirror hanging from the wall, she unbuttoned her white blouse and stared down at the tattoo starting from her middle and flowing right under her lacey bra to her side. It said 'Nathaniel'.

And it was the last time she was ever going to be branded like that. It had been a teenager stupidity, but at the same time she really did love him at one point, so she couldn't entirely regret getting it. And to be all honest, maybe a part of her still did… But as she really was a quite unique person, it was simply bound to end on a sorrow note. Just like every other relationship she'd ever had. He cheated on her and there was no way he was ever going to be able to hide it from her nosy brain.

With a sudden anger flashing through her, she buttoned up her blouse and headed for the tattoo-parlor.

Knocking on the door first, she entered the creepy-looking place. It almost looked ominous. She walked to the heavily tattooed and pierced guy at the reception table and gave him a wry smile.

"Hi, I'm Clair Jones, I have an appointment."

Looking up at her, a wary grin appeared on his lips, "Ohh, yeah about that. I'm so sorry, wanted to give you a call before to inform you, but I guess I totally blanked out on it. The thing is that I kind of double-booked.."

"Oh no," Clair sighed in disappointment. All that courage she had gathered up had been for nothing? Really?

"Well yeah, so I can't take you on right now, but the thing I actually wanted to call you about was that I got another tattoo artist who could do it. If that's okay with you?" he said it in one breath.

"So I can still get this done today?" Clair was confused.

"Yeah, if you're up for it. He should be here any minute now. And as I did totally fuck this thing up, I'm glad to offer you a 30% discount," he said, as his eyes followed the sound that seemed to be coming from the parking lot.

"Well I do want to get this done as soon as possible. What about the sketch I sent you?" Clair was about to snap her finger just to get his attention back on her.

"I already forwarded it to him. He's really good, so don't worry about a thing. As a matter of fact he just got here, so you can go wait for him in that room and then you can talk about all of it face to face," he pointed at the black door leading to the back of the building.

"Okay, thanks," she nodded, heading for the back room.

A few minutes later Clair was sitting in the chair, looking at the various sketches on the walls around her. Her head snapped to the door as soon a she heard the doorknob being turned from the other side.

He came in like he owned the place. Giving her almost no attention, he headed straight to the table next to her.

"Hi," she tried to be polite.

Giving her a slight nod, he started laying out his tools.

"Where do you want this?" he pointed at the paper in his hand.

"Ribcage," she was a bit taken aback by his gravelly voice and the bluntness that came with it, "to cover up the previous one."

"Strip," he ordered, perhaps for the first time really looking at her.

Feeling startled and frankly little bit afraid, she started undoing her blouse. He had finished his preparations and was watching her undress like a hawk. He rolled his chair closer when she finally was ready, with nothing but her bra covering up her upper body.

He moved his finger over the name that was about to be just a bad memory and she couldn't help but pry into his head. However he wasn't exactly an open book, like some others were. Still Clair was able to get over those barriers his thought were hidden behind, once she really concentrated on it.

"_Stupid bitch tat," _he thought looking at the name on her body.

For some reason she couldn't help herself from snapping back at his thoughts. "It's stupid, I know, that's why I'm getting rid of it." The words fell over her lips before she realized her mistake. She had literally answered his thoughts.

"You're probably thinking something like that, right? Like every other person who's ever seen it," she tried to save the moment, just as his questioning eyes had captured hers.

He didn't say much to that, more like made a little snort and turned back to the table. She needed to check to be clear that he hadn't gotten suspicious about her, but as he had removed his hands from her body, there was nothing she could do to hear what was going on behind those dark eyes of his.

That was the thing about her ability to read minds. She needed to be in physical contact for that kind of a connection and even then she wasn't always able to hear everything. It really depended on the person's brain she was trying to invade and also on her own level of concentration. Then again sometimes it was nothing she could do to not listen in and hell if that simple fact hadn't ruined every single relationship she had ever had. If only there was a chance to hide it.. like the tattoo she was about to get more or less off of her body.

As much as her 'good ears' destroyed her personal life, it worked out great for her professional one though. So at least she had that going for her.

She had been so lost in her thoughts that it actually surprised her when he started with the outline of the three branches with small red flower, which she was replacing 'Nathaniel' with.

As his hands were again on her, she forced her way back in. He wasn't thinking about her at all, which was great but at same time a bit disappointing as well. She hadn't apparently intrigued him at all or maybe he was just that good at dedicating on his work.

The whole process hurt more than she remembered. After a while she couldn't help but wince with every single spray of ink.

"You need a break?" he suddenly asked.

"No," she squeaked, although she really did need one.

The pain was helping her keep herself from thinking along with him.. until he finally though about her again.

"_Looks better already, she'll be satisfied with it," he though._ And then much to her surprise, as it actually didn't happen too often that she could not only hear, but also see what people thought or rather imagined, she saw him picture her tattoo with her not wearing a bra.

Her eyes shot wide and she made a sudden move, causing him to pull away.

"What?" he demanded.

"Nothing, just hurts a little," she couldn't wait for it all to be over. Even more so now that he had imagined her in his head. Naked.

He rolled his eyes and continued coloring. Now that she was actually trying to block his thoughts, she couldn't help but hear everything. He was thinking about preparing for something.

"_No gun.. too much noise. Better a knife. Ice pick perhaps," the tattooist though. _He quickly glanced at the clock_. "Should hurry with this bitch, need to get there before them.. Gonna stick it in his head, will be quick and he'll have no time to scream like a bitch. " _

She felt herself stiffen up like a statue. He was thinking about killing someone. He was quite definitely going to kill someone after he was done with her tat. "_OH SHIT," _her own mind screamed. She needed to do something, warn someone. But how? She couldn't go to the police, they'd think she's crazy. Couldn't really tell anyone about her ability… Unless of course she wanted to become a public freak show.

"All done," he topped her red skin off with a bandage what felt like an agonizingly long hour later.

"Thank you," Clair tried not to show her fear.

She paid and got out of the parlor. Sitting in her car debating with herself, she couldn't believe what she was about to do. She was going to follow him and god knows how keep the thing he was planning from happening. She was crazy, but her conscience didn't leave her with any other option.

"I really am a stupid bitch," she muttered biting her lip, as she waited for him and his bike to get two cars ahead of her.


	2. Run to the hills

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters!

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><p>Following someone secretly… Well movies made it look way easier than it actually was. She had lost him almost twice by the time he or rather they had arrived at the gates of Teller-Morrow Auto Repair- also known as the infamous hideout of Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club.<p>

She had noticed his kutte the moment he'd stepped inside the tattoo place, but until now she hadn't really thought about the meaning behind it. Well yeah they had a reputation, and not a good one, hell it was probably everyone's first thought when standing next to someone with a SOA patch, but she was the last person to judge people simply basing on rumors.

So she hadn't really gone into thinking about that before. Now on the other hand, as she had gotten a very close look behind forbidden lines, Clair was quite sure those rumors were just as true as the fact that she was really going crazy, thinking she could somehow save whoever's life.

Still for some reason it felt like it was too late to back down now and as the tattoo-guy was not on a move and instead leaning on his bike, giving someone a call, she decided it was the perfect time to think about what exactly she was planning to do, and how the hell was she going to get away afterwards, without getting herself killed in the process. Pulling her purse upside-down, getting everything inside of it out on the passenger's seat, she eventually found it.

"Ahha," she held out her light-blue taser, "that will not do anything to him, but at least there's something for me to hold onto."

…

"Hey bro, I have a situation," Happy eyed the grey car parked on the other side of the road through his bike's rearview mirror.

"What kind?" Jax asked.

"There's someone following me."

"You sure? Mayans?"

"Positive. Did four right turns. Don't think it's a Mayan though, whoever it is, he's using a car."

"Where are you now?"

"At the gates."

"Is the car still in sight? Can you get the license? I'll let Juice run it through."

"Yeah, idiot is sitting right across from me."

He had to turn his head to get a good look of the plate. Happy couldn't see who was inside, but it for sure looked like, whoever it was, he ducked once his head was pointed at the sedan. He gave Jax the information and waited for further instructions. Continuing his staring through the mirror, his frown grew. Who the hell was so stupid to follow him like that?

He was also frowning about running late, but now that Jax was informed... well he had probably already taken care of that. Still it felt like shit that he couldn't do his job.

His cell started buzzing in his pocked.

"Does the name Clair Jones ring any bells? She's the owner of the car."

"None," Hap was intrigued. It made a bit more sense now. Although there was a chance that someone else had taken that women's car, the overall behavior still did fit better with it being someone with boobs bigger than brains behind the wheel.

"Alright, ride in," VP ordered, "let's wait for her next move."

The words 'her next move' made him grunt. Was he really going to hide behind the gates from someone probably as fragile as a bubble?

"You knock someone up, Killer? Or do you have a secret mistress we don't know about?" Tig almost skipped to him with a wide grin covering up his face just as he got off of his bike.

He gave Tig a scowl, watching Jax walk up to them.

"Where did she start following you?" he asked.

"Not sure, but I noticed him… her quite soon after I left Tat Shop."

"I think I'll go check it out myself," Jax headed for the gates.

"We'll back you up," Tig started following him.

"No, don't want to make her jumpy," Jax shook his head.

…

Clair had no idea what was going on. Maybe it was the world telling her to get the hell out of there and maybe she should have listened. Tattoo-guy had gone in and she had no clue, whether it was someone in there that he was planning on ice picking, or not. Probably not though, those guys lived by some kind of a code. Albeit there was always the chance he'd gone rogue… Yet again he had also thought about not wanting to make a lot noise, meaning it had to happen in a place a bit more public than this.

Wishing she had a pair of binoculars, Clair waited for the Killer to hit the road again. What was he doing anyways? Being generous and letting his soon-to-be victim live another hour? Putting together his murder pack back?

She was busy thinking about different scenarios this all could turn into, mainly with her discovering a more useful special 'power' than her super-dog hearing- for example being able to move like lightning or something, when she noticed someone come out.

On foot.

And he was heading straight to her. "Shit," she muttered, looking around in her car for ideas.

"Hey there, darling," he leaned on her rolled down window. "Wanna come in?"

"Neeh, I'm good," she shook her dark blonde head.

"Yeah, can see that you are," he looked over her, directly at the mountain of stuff that had fallen out of her purse, "though you can't really see Hap from here, so please." He held out his hand like a proper gentleman.

"Who?" she cocked an eyebrow.

He grinned at her and he was handsome, not as scary as the other guy, but still scary enough to make her shook with fear.

"_This is bad, so bad.. What the fuck am I going to do now? Okay, okay calm down, he won't gun you down in the middle of the street, right? Just take his hand, pry into his head, and if he plans to drag you to some kind of a slaughterhouse, then you run.." _she though, slowly opening up the door and taking the hand he was still holding out to her.

"I'm Jax by the way," he started walking her across the street.

"_Not armed, no tats to show affiliations, shaking like a leaf.. who are you, blondie?" _he wondered.

Damn. Not armed. Now she didn't even have her taser. Or phone. She had followed him like a lamb, leaving everything useful inside her car.

"I forgot to lock it," she glanced over her shoulder.

"Don't worry, we keep the streets of Charming crime-free."

He let go of her hand, breaking the brain connection she was trying to maintain. They or at least he didn't exactly plan on hurting her. That much she did manage to get out. But they did know about her following that tattoo-guy, Happy, which meant she still needed one hell of a cover story in hand when they began with the interrogation.

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><p>So chapter two... for those who managed to get down here- THANK YOU FOR READING!<p> 


	3. Kinda outta luck

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters!

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><p>They were walking through the parking lot and she could almost feel the weight of all those eyes on her. As if sensing her reluctance to move forward, Jax placed his hand on her lower back.<p>

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, but even with that added connection she for some reason couldn't hear his thoughts. Well she did manage to get some words, but nothing clear. Guessing her own fear and anxiety were getting in the way, she instead tried to concentrate on the lie she had yet to come up with.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Jax motioned to the clubhouse. Although it was phrased as a question, there were no 'yes' or 'no' options. She was going to have to go in there anyhow, willingly or thrown over his back. That she was able to pick out from his brain.

"Okay," she nodded, although her mind was screaming at her to make a run for the car.

They were followed inside by others wearing the same kind of a leather vest as the man next to him.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked.

"No, thanks," Clair answered, looking around worriedly.

Her eyes stopped on Happy. He was looking rather angry. Well of course he was, she after all had managed to at least stall him from his murder plans. Thinking about it while looking at his dark eyes, made her shiver. His piercing eyes seemed to go straight through her, leaving penny-sized holes in their way.

He was also frowning a bit. She didn't need her ability, to know what he was frowning about though. After all who wouldn't be confused when some chick, who you just tattooed, follows you around like some crazy stalker?

"So, mind telling us what you were doing out there? Following Hap here and all?" Jax pointed at her to sit down on the black leather couch. Even as he did get straight to the point, he was still looking rather calm and collected, he even smiled. Unlike Happy who was leaning against the pool table next to him. Well he also had a weird sense of calmness surrounding him, but Happy was everything but friendly-looking. Jax at least tried to approach her in non-threatening way, even though the threat was as real as the fact that the day was followed by the night.

It actually felt like a session she did with her patients. Asking them what their plans were, while doing this or that. Only with the difference that she for sure didn't scare prisoners with her questions and those guys here definitely did.

It was her time to shine as a liar. _"Here goes nothing," _Clair thought, deciding to look only at Jax while she was talking. Others simply made her way too nervous to even think she'd be able to lie her way out of this mess she had created for herself. Never in a million years had she thought a day like this could come, with her sitting in a MC clubhouse, afraid for her life.

"Jesus Christ, this is so embarrassing," she dropped her gaze to the floor. "Really I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so ashamed for being caught like that, can I please just go and pretend this never happened?" Clair was sure it wouldn't work, but she at least needed to try the easy way first.

"Sure thing, darling, but first we'd still like to know what this was all about," Jax wasn't smiling anymore. He looked just as suspicious as the others around him. Or rather around her. She'd noticed it right away. They had all so smoothly blocked every exit in her sight.

"Okay, the thing is.. Oh well, he…" she gave Happy a quick glance, "he just redid my tattoo and I was really satisfied with his work and wanted to properly thank him, but he was out so quick I didn't get a good chance. So I followed him, hoping he'd stop somewhere and I would maybe be able to ask him… eeh, ask him if I could thank him with a drink sometime. It was stupid idea, I know. Let's just all forget about it?"

She didn't even know where all that came from, but at least it did sound more believable to her own ears than anything else she had been able to come up with. For example her wanting to get riding lessons..

"Ohh. Well-well, Hap, what do you say to that generous offer?" Jax looked at the bald-headed biker on his right, a wide grin on his pretty boy face.

The silence was dreadful as the killer gave her a proper once over, before finally opening his mouth.

Clair was praying he'd let her down easy, not in a laughing kind of a way. She had already been embarrassed enough for one day.

"I don't do dates," his voice was so low and raspy that it sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

She was just on her way to mumble out something in the lines of 'yeah okay, no worries, I better go now', that she didn't even pay that much attention to the rest of his sentence.

"But ain't a man in here who'd pass up a free drink." It took her a moment to decipher his words.

"Oh," was all that she could say now that she was forced to look at the scary looking biker, "right now?"

Happy looked at Jax, who gave him a small nod. "It's taken care off."

So the person he was supposed to kill was already dead, even with her interference? Shit! And it had been a job delegated to him by Jax? Or were they talking about something else? Whichever way it was, she was still in one hell of a pickle.

"Let's go," Happy glared at her, taking a step closer as he did. He could at least have tried to look like a normal friendly person now that according to his knowledge she had just wanted to ask him out… sort of… but no, he still had that intense look that could have been translated in multiple ways- all more or less bad.

"_Okay, play it cool. One drink, somewhere public where he can't hurt you," _she thought following him out.

"So where are we going to meet? Or I can just follow you with my car," Clair asked, looking past him at her car.

"Yeah I know you can," he said with a serious face. Although for some reason she was pretty sure she could see a faint smirk behind his well-controlled expression. "But you're coming with me."

"No need, my car's right there," she tried to sound calm, even as the idea of getting on that thing with him was really freaking her out. At least in her car she had that taser of hers. And her cell. And control over the wheel.

"I insist," he blocked her way with his held out arm.

"I see," she took the helmet he held out for her. "So I just hold on.. to you?" she raised an eyebrow, sitting behind him and looking around for something to keep her from flying away like a kite.

He grunted something that sounded like 'mhmm'.

Clair wrapped her arms around him, instantly feeling something gun-shaped in one of his pockets. It more than likely was one. So she dropped her hands lower, maybe a bit too low, as her fingers were now against the coldness of his belt buckle. However since it would have been more than weird sliding her hands over his abs again, she decided to leave them there.

She closed her eyes and opened the door to his head.

"_Nice tits, a bit too short though, no legs or ass.. still good enough to bang. Wonder if she'll let me do her from behind... Probably is kinky as fuck, those uptight bitches usually are once you get them going. That's why she came after me, hoping to fulfil her dirty biker-fantasy. Yeah, I'll fulfill you… Oh, eager much? You can let your hands even lower if you want… Maybe I should just pull over right away, give her what she wants?"_

She didn't mean to react so quickly, but couldn't stay still after hearing what he was thinking about. Her fingers were almost back to the gun-zone, keeping them slightly underneath it.

Of course he though she wanted him to fuck her. Him hurting her was now so far in her list of worries, that it was almost funny.

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><p>Thanks for reading. Would love to hear your feedback! :)<p> 


	4. Two sides of the coin

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters!

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><p>For the rest of the road she was trying hard not to listen in on him. This meant attempting to sing along with whichever song she managed to take up in her mind- starting with the alphabet song and ending with paradise city. His thoughts were simply freaking her out. And even as she could understand why he had those ideas of her intentions, she just couldn't see an easy way to erase that impression he had created of her.<p>

They came to a halt in front of the Hairy Dog. Not a place she would have chosen, but at least he hadn't stopped in the middle of the road, like he had initially thought.

Stuck in silence, they climbed off of his bike and headed for the pub. He was no gentleman. Didn't even hold the door open for her. Instead he barged in and just stood in the doorway for a second, taking a long look around. Only after that dreadful moment did he really began moving forward, with that letting her enter as well.

She rolled her eyes following him to the corner-booth. Not only was he personally giving her the creeps, that place was also targeting the same fear-level in her head. Maybe even more than he was.

He waved over a skanky looking waitress and ordered himself a beer.

"And for you?" the girl whose ass was about fall out of her short-shorts asked.

"I'll take a beer too," Clair tried to smile, but couldn't keep her lips from trembling.

Waiting for their drinks, Clair made mental notes on her surroundings. Or rather notes on possible exits, if things went from bad to worse in a matter of seconds. At the same time she could also feel him watching her with his dark and intense gaze. It was really distracting.

Him sighing made Clair snap her eyes back at him. The look of annoyance on his face was irritating her, cause it wasn't like she had held her.. well taser against his head and forced him to come out with her. He could have said no, if it really was such a frightful bore for him.

"So you're a mechanic as well?" she couldn't keep up with the pressure of their suffocating silence any longer. She was already becoming aware of her breathing and it was driving her nuts.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Awesome," she took a sip from her drink. It was disgusting and made her want to make faces. Why did she even order a beer? She was more like a wine-girl.

As he was not going along with her attempt of trying to have a meaningless chit chat, she continued asking questions all by herself. "So you live here in Charming?"

"Yeah, I will show you where."

Lucky for her, she didn't have beer in her mouth while he said that, or else she would have spat it out on the table between them. He was straight to business apparently.

"Prison… I work at Stockton Prison," she almost yelled it out without thinking. She had no idea of what to say to him about his promise to show her where he lived, so she just pretended like she didn't even hear it.

"I'm a shrink there," she picked up a coaster from the stack that was in the middle of the table, just to keep her hands busy.

She didn't expect him to react, but somehow something that she had just said must have intrigued him, as he so casually leaned over by placing his elbows on the table. "So you're drawn to the danger?" he asked.

She would have been happy about him also contributing to the conversation, if it had been a simple easily answerable question. But no, he just had dug deep. It seemed like it was either nothing or absolutely everything when it came to the depths of conversation topics with him.

"I wouldn't say that," she shook her head, although a part of her felt like she was lying. Maybe she really was drawn to the danger. How else would one explain the way she had gotten to this point? She had literally jumped in her car to follow danger on wheels just a few hours earlier and now she was sitting with that same danger in a really dangerous-looking bar.

"I just want to help make sure that guys who get out won't end up behind the bars again." After all she did have a mental gift that made her work-results almost fool-proof.

"You go here often? I noticed the waitress knew your name," she forced on a small smile.

"I guess," he was back to being an uncommunicative person.

"What's with the name anyways?"

"Nothing, just a name," he belt down his beer.

"Okay," seeing the empty glass in front him and a very much full one in front of her, which she just couldn't gulp down, she lifted her eyes back to him, "we can go if you want to, I don't know why I ordered it, not that into beer in fact."

"Waitress," he instantly called out with his raspy voice.

She came to the table, looking only at Happy. Clair had been so busy staring at the waitress that she didn't at first even notice the stack of cash he holding out to the girl.

"I thought I asked you for a drink," she stood up with him, sincerely surprised in the fact that he had paid.

"Doesn't matter" he said with a glint in his eyes that she didn't need her ability to translate. He was obviously thinking she was going to pay him back in another way.

She followed him out, just to remember that they had come there on his bike. Meaning she couldn't just duck out, she had to let him take her home.

Warily she told him where to go and climbed on behind him- while at the very same time trying hard to figure out a way out of it.

Thinking it was easier to know what she was exactly going to be up against, she took a quick peak into his head.

"_Like I'm gonna let a woman buy me a drink, might not be a gentleman, but not a deadbeat asshole either. Though can't wait for her to pay me back… on her knees, with my cock in her mouth. Shit, getting a semi simply thinking about it." _

It was too much, she had to start singing again in her own head, just to distract herself from his dirty thoughts. Did he really expect her to give him head just because he bought her a drink? Oh yeah, he did. To Happy her wanting him to fuck her silly was the only reasonable explanation for her starting this thing in the beginning. And oh how wrong he was.

They got to her small house and she climbed off in a way that made it look like the bike was about to explode beneath them.

"So thank you for the drink and the tattoo and the lift home. I'll definitely recommend you to anyone who wants to correct tattoo-mistakes they have done in their youth," she smiled at him, handing over the helmet. "It was nice meeting you."

His gaze drifted over her, to the house.

"You live alone?"

"Well besides my cat, yeah I do." Did he really not get the hint?

"Why's your door open like that then?" he motioned to her front door.

She turned around, slightly startled by his remark, and looked at the wooden door slowly swinging in the wind. "I don't know. It shouldn't be."

"I'll check it out, stay behind me," he shut off his engine and came to stand next to her. She followed his tall figure to the porch. He glanced behind him, before pulling out his gun and taking off the safety.

"You should wait here," Happy ordered.

She couldn't help but feel safer right behind his back, than standing on the porch, all alone. So she ignored his instructions and snuck in behind him. It was all quiet.

For a second she was actually faced with his gun, when he came back from the other end of her house, but other than that there really was nothing out of ordinary.

"It's all clear so far, I'll check out the bedroom too," he said.

She nodded and silently tailed him. He was thorough, even examined her closet. "Someone's been here though," she motioned at the drawers being pulled out from her bedside table. A move which she damned herself for just a millisecond later. She basically forced him to look at the content of her drawer, which was all kinds of normal stuff like some vitamins, a moisturizer, a book she had been reading …but then again also her pink vibrator.

She gulped down hard, realizing her error and quickly bolted across the room to pick the drawer up and shove it away from his smirking gaze. That was the last thing a guy, who already didn't hold back on thinking about all kinds of sexual things starring her, needed to see.

"Oh shit, Kit," Clair suddenly remembered. Housebreaking was one thing, someone letting her cat out the door was even worse.

She hurried out of her room, calling out Kit and praying for her cat to be hiding in the living room, like he usually did when people came over. But he wasn't in any of his regular hiding places, nor was he in the kitchen. "_Fuck,"_ she already felt like crying.

She opened the guest bathroom door and against all odds, there he was, sitting on top of the furry rug, looking at her.

"Oh baby," Clair picked him up and buried her face in his colorful coat. "Found him," Clair yelled out, although she was pretty sure Happy didn't give a rat's ass about her cat.

She let the cat down and out of the bathroom, before really realizing Happy was still in her house.

"I think it was just a random thing, I had some money hidden inside a cookie jar, that's gone, but other than that it looks okay," she came to stand on her bedroom's doorway.

Happy was sitting on her bed, looking like he was biting his tongue. "You ain't afraid of being here all alone after this? Are you going to call the cops?"

"I'll be okay and like a said, it was a random thing I think, and they know now that I don't have anything here to take, so I don't think there's a need to call the cops," she shrugged, hoping it was enough of an explanation for him to leave her alone. In reality however she really was a bit scared, but still not so much that it would have made her ask him to stay for the night.

"There would have been something to take, if you'd been here," he stood up, one hand behind his back.

"Can't be afraid of what if's," she turned to the side to let him through the doorway.

However he did not walk past her, he instead stopped right in front of Clair and it took her a moment to realize what he was holding onto. He turned it on and held it out to her.

"You know where to find me, when you're ready, doc. Until then, feel free to pretend with this, although I'm a bit bigger." He took her hand in his, placed the buzzing vibrator between her fingers, and then lowered it between her legs to press it against her crotch. She gasped at the tingling feeling that hit her through her jeans.

It was the first real and clear smile she had seen on him. Well it was more like a grin, but still.

She watched his leather-covered back disappear outside and then at the pink noise-making thing in her hand. Had he really just done that?

Well at least he had gone away and she didn't have to see him again.

And then it doomed on her- her car was still at the clubhouse, with her keys and wallet and everything else inside of it. She couldn't even have paid for the drinks if he hadn't done that, or entered her own house, if the door hadn't already been unlocked.

Well getting her car back, without running into Happy, was going to be a problem for tomorrow. For that night she was only going to worry about sleeping with a kitchen knife next to her pillow, just in case.

Then again she was also a worried about the other thing nagging on her brain. How was she ever going to use her pleasure maker ever again, without at the same time thinking about him?

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! <strong>

**Would love to know what you think of it so far. :) **


	5. Come a little closer

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters

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><p>Clair's POV:<p>

It had been a restless night. I had been tossing and turning, unable to find a relaxing position for a good four hours already. A part of me was worried about the break-in, another was busy re-living the previous day.

I was trying hard not to go down that road. I really was! But I was also quickly realizing that I really needed some kind of a release. Something to take the edge off, I guess. It was more than evident that I was way too worked up for sleep to take over anytime soon otherwise.

With surrender, I reached out and pulled on the string that tangled from the lamp on my right. Chewing on my lip, I opened up the drawer. This was the exact moment that I regretted not having an addiction. Like for an alcoholic a shot of vodka might have done the deal, for a smoker a single smoke… Actually maybe those things would not have been enough for them as well, but at least they would have done something. I however, being a good girl and all, wasn't shackled onto those kinds of obsessions. A good thing, right?

Pushing myself on my elbows, I stared at the inside of the drawer I'd just opened up. The vitamins inside of it weren't going to help shit, neither was the book I currently had on hold.

With shaking hands, along with a bit of embarrassment, I reached for the vibrator. I couldn't even look at it without seeing that smirk on his face as he basically told me to use it while thinking of him.

However the problem was that I really wanted, or more like needed, to use it right not, but still not while thinking about him. As far as I knew, he was an arrogant asshole- and a dangerous one at that.

Yet I still took it out and laid the thing next to me, before my hands disappeared underneath the covers to push down my sleeping shorts.

I closed my eyes and started rubbing my fingers in circles against my clit. I could still hear his raspy voice in my head.. and as fucked up as it was, it was really turning me on. I felt myself getting wetter simply by letting myself slip on the thought of how good it would feel if those were his fingers, instead of mine, doing that little dance on my nub.

Closing my eyes I soon brought the buzzing pleasure maker between my legs. Placing it to my entrance, my eyes shot open. I couldn't stop the fantasy of it being his dick that was about to enter me from flashing through my head.

"Fuck," I whined out loud, as I just couldn't let that image go any further.

I was already so close, but I just couldn't let myself finish. Showing the vibrator back to the drawer, as if it was capable of biting me, I let out a heavy sigh. It was just great, cause now I felt even tenser than I had before. I was literally sexually frustrated and I couldn't even do a thing to take care of it by myself- nor with anyone else for that matter. That little fact I had thankfully realized way back. It was so god damn hard not to let my mood drift off, when I heard them think about everything I didn't want to hear or picture.

For example one of the guys that had gotten further than a kiss, had imagined me being an old crimpled lady that he was forcing himself on. Now imagine that not killing your mood and putting the alarms in your head ring with the highest volume… It was no wonder that I was single.

I kicked my legs out from underneath the blanket and pulled my shorts back up. It was agonizingly early in the morning and yet I knew I was not getting any sleep, whether I tried to or not.

So as I was not getting anywhere with my sexual release either, I had only one other possible option that worked for such an early hour of day- I was going for a run. It usually always cleared my head and helped my body shake itself free from stress. And stress, frustration, agony- or whatever you wanted to call it- was exactly the thing I needed to get rid of sooner rather than later.

As I ran around the block, it was getting whiter by the minute. Stretching myself in front of my house, as I eventually got back, I looked at the watch ticking audibly on my arm, while at the same time wondering when exactly TM would open and even more importantly, would _he _actually be there first thing in the morning.

I knew for a fact that I needed to be clever about my timing, cause I was for sure hoping on not seeing him again, even as my body seemed to wish otherwise. Still I was determined to act according to my brain and not my pussy. After all if I was in the stage of hardly being able to think about him without freaking out, I was clearly seven seas away from being prepared to see him again this soon.

He was scaring me, he was annoying me, and most of all he was causing my body to betray me.

…

As I got to the garage just a few short hours later, I instantly got conformation to my presumption- someone had locked up my car.

I knew I should have been happy about the fact that my car was still there and all, but the realization that I now really needed to go inside those gates and ask for my keys… well that was making my stomach churn.

Keeping my eyes on the door to the office, I prayed to God that I wouldn't run into him.

I let my fist touch the door and I waited. After a few seconds I repeated my action and waited again. Yet still no-one answered.

It was quickly getting ridiculous. Due to my fear of even looking towards the clubhouse, I was actually starting to think about simply leaving- without the car… I could get a new one.. or in a less dramatic way have someone else pick it up.

Biting my lip and realizing how stupid my own thoughts sounded at that moment, I literally forced my legs into moving. I simply just needed to swallow down my fear.

While knocking on the clubhouse door a minute later, I quickly realized that no-one was coming to answer that one either. However, unlike with the office sign bearing door on the other side of the lot, this one was at least visibly unlocked.

Gradually I got my hand on the doorknob and yanked it open. Just like the day before, the place looked ominous and dark, giving me an instant feel of terror. The last time I was here I had been probably too worked up to really look around, but now as I was in search of my keys, I just had to. It wasn't just that there weren't all that many windows to light the place up, it was the altogether vibe of the room ahead of me. I didn't even need to look down to know that I was already covered with goosebumps.

"Morning, blondie, looking for Hap?" a curly-haired guy asked.

I fixed my eyes on his and shook my head. "I'm sorry to bother you this early in the morning, but I left my car here yesterday, well out front actually, and it looks like someone locked up the doors. Perhaps you have an idea of where those keys could be? Or who I should look for in that matter?"

There was a twinkle in his bright colored eyes as he scanned me from head to toe, and it was just as ominous as the reaper covered wall behind him. I tried not to show my fear, not to even bat my eyelashes. Guys like him fed off of it. That much I had learned from my job.

At that moment I really wished I could touch him. Not like in a touchy-feely kind of way, but in an unnoticeable skin to skin mode that would have showed me the crazy idea that was for sure at the moment cooking in his head.

But then again maybe it was better this way, me not knowing, cause if it was something as bad or terrifying as the things Happy had been thinking about around me, as well as starring me, I probably would not have been able to keep this calm and cool front for much longer.

"Wanna drink?" he asked, taking a short step closer to where I was standing. Looking down at my feet, just to escape from the weird gaze he had directed at me, I noticed I might have had the face of a calm person, but my body language was telling a whole other story. I had my feet turned toward the exit and my fingernails digging holes into my sweating palms.

He must have picked up on that vibe as well, as the smirk on his face just kept on growing along with the length of the steps that he was taking in my way. "_Get it together,"_ I told myself, slightly trying to shake some ease into my tense body.

"A bit early for me I think, but thank you very much for offering," I gave my best shot of a confident smile.

It probably wasn't all that believable, but at least he wasn't exactly pointing it out either, more like playing along.

"At what godly hour do you drink coffee then?"

"Oh.. I thought.. Never mind. I guess you can't help me with the keys, so I'll just go out and look around for someone who might know something, thanks for.. hearing me out," I started slowly walking backwards, as he was already too close for comfort. I knew he was messing with me and it was better to get out of there while I was still at least kinda ahead.

"No-no, no need. I know where your stuff is, sugar. Just thought I'd try to be as _polite_ as you obviously are for a change," he said in way that I couldn't tell whether it was a real compliment or just him teasing me.

"Okay, may I perhaps get them now then? Don't want to waste your time here or anything," I said in a rush. Why wasn't this nightmare ending?

"Sure thing, babe. Just take a right and then second door on the left," he pointed at the hallway, a wicked grin covering up half of his face.

I nodded, "Thank you."

It might have looked real weird that I chose to head to the direction he had shown me by first going around the pool table, instead of taking the short-cut that in other words meant passing right by him, but I just didn't have the guts. His crazy eyes were glued on me in a way that made me more than certain of the fact that he would not have had a problem with just grabbing me by the ass or something if I got too close to him.

As I got to the right door, I quickly looked around. All the other doors in that hallway looked alike, but still I was pretty sure I was standing in front of the right one. It was after all the second one on the left.

Taking in a deep breath, I knocked twice…

… and just like before, there was no answer. What was it with this place? Was I really just supposed to step inside and face whoever or whatever was waiting for me on the other side?

I guess I was.

Slowly pushing the door open, I felt the air on my neck stand up, "Hello?"

I let my eyes quickly run over the empty bedroom, before I dared to really step inside.

As soon as I'd shut the door behind me, I heard it- water running on the other side of the wall. Someone was taking a shower not that far away.

Perhaps it was a stupid idea to not turn around immediately and duck out, but as my gaze landed on the bedside table, I saw my keys. There was no way to miss them, along with them was my bright pink keychain that was sticking out in this dark colored room like a lonely skyscraper among a long line of army colored tents.

I breathed with relief. Finally I was close to having the means to leave that place, among its residents, behind me for once and for all. That realization struck just as the water stopped running behind the probably not too thick wall.

It was either taking the risk of getting caught "stealing" my own keys, or going out and then knocking on that door again to be face to face with the person whose room it was. As I didn't really have the time to write down pros and cons, I simply tiptoed to my keys, hoping for the best.

The best, however, was not the thing I got for my courageous attempt. Instead I heard the door behind my back fly open way too soon.

Picking up my keys, I turned around, in my mind ready to start shooting out apologies.

However I didn't exactly get to that point. Suddenly the crazy grin on the curly-haired guys face before started making sense- it was Happy's room.

And it was personally he who was standing, while being very much naked, on the other side of the bed.

As soon as the towel he had used to wipe his face left his eyes, I think we both gasped in concert.

I don't know what happened quicker- my mouth dropping to the floor, or my cheeks becoming a flaming shade of red.

"What the fuck?" he demanded on a growl, moving his towel lower to cover up his junk.

Although it was a bit too late for that. That image of him was burned to my mind.

My heart was pounding like crazy, as I turned my head to the side. Not that it helped with erasing that mental picture of his impressive package, but still, I guess it helped a little bit with the awful embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry, I… The guy out front told me to come here… I mean for my keys," I held them up as a physical proof of my stupid sounding excuse. "I didn't know it was your room, really I'm so sorry," I took a quick peak in his way. He had wrapped the towel around his middle.

"Judging on your face, I'd say it's the first time you saw a naked man," he said in his raspy voice. As if looking at his half-naked body wasn't enough. He just had to have that sexy voice too.

"I should go now," I practically ran for the door. However he was quicker.

Holding his hand over the door handle, and by that stopping me from moving any further, he waited for me to pull my eyes away from the door I was putting all my concentration effort on. Not even needing my ability, I sensed that he wasn't planning on letting me get away that easily.

Finally, after a moment of gathering myself, I succumbed and glanced at his nearly black eyes.

However his stare was more than just provoking, it was right on mocking. Unable to hold my eyes on his, they drifter further south.

Instantly I cringed, realizing my error, and shot my eyes back up. It took only that simple quick peak to register that there was a definite bulge growing underneath that dark blue towel of his. I was blushing so hard I thought my face was a second away from catching a real fire.

And his attitude was for sure dancing in front of me like a burning match.

"I'd say we're uneven now," Happy growled into my ear, before pulling open the door, the scent of his aftershave overpowering my mind. "But no worries, won't be for long."

* * *

><p>Finally I got to this one again. So sorry for this long pause. I actually really try to get around to all of them, but yeah.. life happens.<p>

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it. Also I would really appreciate if you'd help me stay motivated on this one as well.

THANK YOU FOR READING!


	6. Just trip the wire

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters

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><p>Clair's POV:<p>

It had been a good month. Well not exactly good, but good-adjacent. Nothing really happened and for the first time in my life, I was really happy about that- I mean I guess I was simply happy to live a normal life, at least as normal as it ever got for a person with the ability to read other people's minds.

Thank God my 'gift' wasn't anything like the stupid movies and TV shows often made it look like. I would have been the one behind the bars and in need of psychological help if I was able to hear everything without first having to create a physical contact. That thought alone made me shudder.

I looked up at Ryan over my papers, realizing I had totally zoomed out while he was going on and on about knowing his purpose in life. Even as I wasn't sure of what that purpose was and I doubted that even he himself actually believed a word that came out of that grilled up mouth of his, I gave him a warm smile. At least he wasn't throwing out threats like the previous one.

I was tired, it had been a long day already, and I could hardly sit still listening to him, even as he was one of the easier ones, at least by the initial feel of it. I had yet to read his mind, but I could already sense that he was almost harmless. Yet again, considering that he in fact was in jail for a robbery gone wrong for the one hundredth time in a row, I couldn't really go easy on him either.

Still it was just the first session of many, so I let him continue his monologue, occasionally writing stuff down to my notebook.

To be all honest, I wasn't even that tired as I just couldn't wait to go home and get lost in the world of True Blood. It was starting to become a routine- get up, get to work, get home, watch TV and go to sleep, just to start it all over again the next day.

I know, my choice of leisure-time TV was a bit ironical, considering that the world poor little Sookie was living in would have been my very own personal nightmare. (Even as there were those little bonuses that came with it, I mean who wasn't drooling after Mr. Northman, right?) But still it was good enough of an imaginary world to put my real life on shelf even for the tiniest of times.

So basically that was it. Every single day after getting home, I started watching it from where I'd left it the previous night … talk about not having a social life.

Okay-okay, now to be brutally honest, then yeah, it had been a quiet and peaceful month, but on the other hand I was still jumping up in my seat each and every time I heard the sound of a motorcycle passing by my house.

It wasn't like I was expecting Happy to spontaneously drop by, but his promise to get even was still ringing in my ears like a set of church bells.

More often than not I found myself daydreaming about him, all the while being totally aware of what kind of a person was hidden behind that smoking hot surface. Still I just kept on trying to come up with situations where I could forget about hearing anything he had ever thought and just let him take me like I knew he would.

However each and every time my thoughts started to really spiral out of control, along with my hand moving where it should not have been moving while thinking of him, I forcefully shook myself out of it. Those dumb sounding ideas were leading nowhere anyhow, in reality I already knew I'd never be able to just look past his murderous tendencies- not even for a quickie… hot, dirty, mind-blowing quickie.

"Hey Clair, do you think you could fit in another one?" Tracy's head appeared in my doorway a short while after Ryan had been escorted out.

"Now?" I let out a desperate sigh. What about Eric and Alcide? They were waiting for me.

"I know, just that there are higher ranks here wanting you to crack him open like a pinjata, as quick as possible. I think it's cause they're not sure of how long they can keep him in here," Tracy was now leaning against the doorway. By the look on her face, I knew she was annoyed by this as much as I was.

"Oh fine, who is it? I mean what's he in for and what do _they _want us to talk about while braiding each other's hair?" I stood up and moved to the cabinet to put Ryan's file away.

"They said that whatever you can get. He's part of some gang.. I don't know much. Here's the file," she handed me a stack of papers.

"Okay, send the little troublemaker in then," I moved back to my desk.

"Hey, you didn't say what he did to win this little vacation," I spoke out just before the door closed.

"Lunatic dragged some poor fellow behind a moving vehicle. So I'd say be prepared for an anger management session."

"Oh I will manage the hell out of him," I let out a yawn covered chuckle.

Dropping the new guys file on my table, I grabbed myself some water.

I heard the door open behind me, along with two pairs of steps coming in. I didn't even bother looking his way before he was safely chained to my table and the guard was out.

"Hi, I'm your.. " I choked on my words as soon as my eyes landed on Happy's face. Although not only did I choke on my words, I also choked on the water that I had tried to use to cover up the reaction I had to seeing him.

Gathering my fast-moving thoughts and daring to look at him again, I instantly noticed the ominous smirk on his face and I couldn't be sure, whether it was brought on by my inability to act normal or simply the fact that he found it funny that it was me who he was supposed to have a psychological chat with.

I on the other hand was far from seeing any of this as fun. More like the exact opposite.

"Clair," I finished my sentence, just before I realized that altogether it came out as 'Hi, I'm your Clair'. "I mean I'm the court-appointed psychiatrist."

He just stared at me with his pitch-black eyes. _"Shit," _I muttered in my head as I felt my knee starting to tremble under his observing gaze. I really needed to sit down- to cover up the shaking as well as to stop him from looking me up and down.

Out of words, I grabbed for the file and hoped for him to say something before I managed to make the matters even worse.

He didn't'. He just continued staring at me, the weight of his gaze landing heavy on my chest.

"So… I read here you had a little joy-ride with someone who actually didn't find it so joyful?" I tried to go on like a professional would, although I doubted a real professional would ever feel the need to ease her nerves by secretly squeezing a squishi ball under the table.

He leaned back on his chair as much as the chain allowed him to.

"Nothing to say about that? Okay, let's talk about something else then," I wasn't actually expecting him to simply start spilling the beans, but it was worth the shot. In reality I knew that first I needed to find my way in somehow. "_Or he could find his way into you," _a devilish voice in my head declared.

Instantly I felt my cheeks go hot under his now a bit different gaze.

"What are you thinking about?" he demanded in his gravelly tone.

"I'm thinking about wanting to help you. What are you thinking about?" I answered, hoping the red in my face wasn't so obvious.

"I'm thinking you're full of shit. That look on your face is exactly the same as the one you had the last time you ate me up with your eyes. By all means, come and get it," he motioned at his groin with his head.

"Excuse me?" I gasped, shocked by his blunt suggestion.

"I bet you tight up bitches dream about getting some from guys like me," he smirked, eyes hovering over my shirt. As it turned out yet again, he was just as blunt with his words as he was with his thoughts.

I had to fight with myself not to throw the tiny ball in my hands right at his face. How dared he talk to me like that? And did he just call me a bitch?

"I beg your pardon?" I was actually getting angry now.

"Only thing you should beg for is my dick."

I could see it in his face, he was loving the reaction he got from me.

I couldn't even tell whether he was provoking me just for fun, or cause he wanted us to stay off topic, or if he really thought he could get with me simply by talking like that- whatever it was, deep in my head I knew needed to remain calm, even as the need to lung something at him was still going strong.

Suddenly I felt like I was a ticking time bomb and he was the one with the pair of scissors. And to hell if I knew if his next words were going to cut the red or the blue chord.

"Considering my offer?" Happy asked after a minute of silence accompanied by a glaring contest.

* * *

><p>A short one, yeah I know. I'm running a bit late, so please forgive me.<p>

As always a big thank you to everyone who has read and followed/ faved/ reviewed. You guys rock my world!


	7. I got you wounded in the dark

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters

* * *

><p>Clair's POV:<p>

"No, I'm considering whether there's a way to slap you and not lose my license in the process," I spat out. _Where the hell did that come from? _

His smirk got even wider, but then again there was also that subtle hint of a surprise.

Hell_, I_ was surprised at the comeback myself, cause in reality it would have looked way more natural for me if I'd just closed my eyes and counted to three. Then I would have probably been calm enough to tell him a firm and simple 'no'.

"I think it's enough for day one. Hope you'll have time to think things through and then maybe see that _I'm_ here to help you, not to be harassed by you."

"Oh yes, I most certainty will be thinking of you," Happy's face was unreadable. The thing he had said clearly sounded dirty, but the look on his face was more like angry than anything else. Apparently not only was he scaring me, he had just now taken up a new task of constantly confusing me as well. _Awesome. _

I walked past him and opened the door. "You can take him back to the cell," I told the guard who had been staring down at his phone behind my door. Good to know he was paying attention to his job and even better to know that someone was really investing their time to secure my safety.

"Yes, of course," his eyes shot up in a startled and embarrassed way.

I moved back inside in silence and made point of slowly going through each and every single one of my desk's drawers- just to keep myself from having to watch Happy being dragged away. Well to be truthful, no actual dragging was involved, he went willingly. But still he was handcuffed and obviously annoyed and I sure as hell didn't want to add anything else to that combination, for example by provoking him to say something that probably would have resulted in him getting a different kind of a treatment from the guard.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Lowman," I said, still not looking his way.

His snort was loud enough for me to finally raise my eyes in his direction, but it was apparently his turn to avoid making eye-contact.

…

You know the feeling when you're so frustrated with the following day that you can't sleep, nor stay up? That's exactly how my night went. I kept on replaying each and every second of our little encounter. And as if that hadn't been enough, Kit had literally tap-danced over me most of the night, and when I finally had enough of him and took the meowing fur-ball to the other room, he simply kept on tormenting me by howling behind the closed door.

How fucked up was it that I had such a shitty luck lately? In all matters…

I kicked my legs out from underneath the pile of blankets and stirred like a cat. I was literally dreading going to work so much that I felt like I was going to be sick. Or maybe the bad feeling came from the awful headache. Whichever way, it was bad… so bad that I couldn't even look in the general direction of the fridge.

"Guess it's going to be just coffee," I mumbled, looking at the now totally peaceful looking kitty, devil really came in disguise … and only at night.

I pressed the button on the coffee-machine and sat down to take in the smell of freshly crushed coffee-beans. A heavy yawn pressed its way out of my throat as I waited for the mug to fill.

Lazily I reached out to the remains of the Chinese take-out from the night before. As much as it made me want to empty my guts even more, I knew I had to eat something. My body was in a serious lack of energy. But even with that notion, I was far from being able to take on real food. So I decided on grabbing a fortune cookie.

I took out the tiny paper and read it out loud, "Be decisive. Maybe. If you want to."

What kind of a fortune was that? I quickly grabbed for the second one. Not that I believed in stuff like that, but I just couldn't let this morning carry on under the sign of uncertainty. After all I was just a few short hours away from having to face the You-Know-Who… _again…_ and I really needed something witty and empowering to scribble down on the metaphorical wall that I was going have to create between us two… and clearly "Be decisive. Maybe. If you want to" was so not it.

I broke the second one with more force than needed and just as quick as my eyes had scanned over the writings I had thrown the paper back on the table- "The lesser of two evils is still evil."

"Really?" I abruptly grabbed for the mug instead and, just like I had imagined it would happen, spilled half of the burning hot liquid onto my hand, and the other half to the floor while I yelped in pain and lost the hold.

After holding my hand under cold water for at least a minute, I sat down rubbing my aching temples, not even bothering with cleaning up the mess I was surrounded by.

Suddenly a wild thought entered my brain- maybe I was really sick, like with fever and all. Then it would have be totally okay to stay at home, hidden from the world and its more often than not scary occupants.

My hand was already on the call-button, when I realized that one way or another, I couldn't hide forever. I was just going to have to get through it like a professional… and then maybe take a long vacation somewhere far-far away.

With my mind somewhat back to being confident and organized, I put the coffee-machine on again, quickly wiped away the bigger mess, and then started getting ready.

It would have been a lie to say that I wasn't especially obvious to what I was going to wear that day, I was- I just kept on telling myself that it was okay to want to look beautiful_. It's a womanly thing. No other explanation needed._

After working my way through way more clothing items than normally, I was finally pleased with my simple, yet fitting outfit. I was wearing skin-colored stockings, black pencil-skirt that had a dangerously deep slash on the back, and a white chiffon blouse. A classic look.

Pleased with my clothing, I moved on to other things. Trying it one way and then another, I finally pulled my hair back into a neat bun and coated my lashes with black mascara. As it altogether still looked a bit too bland, I decided to spice things up with a ruby red lipstick.

The headache and nausea were both still there, but the certainly pleasing reflection in the mirror almost made those little annoyers blend to the background.

As I was finally ready, I took my coffee, as well as a granola bar, to go.

"Those fortune cookies can go and fuck themselves, granola bars all the way," I pointedly said that to my sleeping cat.. like he cared.. or understood.

…

"Morning," I greeted the guards as I made my way inside the thick and strongly secured walls.

It was strangely quiet, although I could clearly see the prisoners moving around on the lower level, going on about their day like usual. The daytime was often, well not exactly peaceful, but normal-looking. It was usually the nighttime that all the real bad shit went down and oh how thankful I was of that little fact. I just really preferred on not seeing those things that would have probably haunted me for the rest of my life.

As I moved further through the safely secluded hallway, my eyes drifted down to the gym-room. I didn't even see him at first, but as soon as my eyes fixed on his naked and very much appealing chest, while he was occupied with pushing up a heavy looking bar, I felt my feet starting to slow down… so much that soon I was standing in one place altogether.

I gulped, looking, or rather drooling, at his muscular form. My hands rested on the bulletproof window, as I watched him push the bar up one last time, before he put it away and sat up.

I'm not so sure in which order the following things happened, but during a very short moment he had snapped his eyes up, right at me, and I had slumped down, hitting my head in the process.

Argh, like it hadn't been hurting already.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice asked.

I raised my head enough to look at a pair of rather worn black slippers- Tracy.

"Eeh, I… I lost my earring," I looked up, giving her a wry smile.

"What does it look like?" she bent down, her eyes instantly going to my ear… and then to the other one.

"I have two holes in this ear," I lied to answer her questioning gaze by pointing at my right ear. "Stupid youth, you know," I shrugged it off.

"I've never notice it before, but okay, still what does it look like?" she seemed to let my little lie slide.

"It's a white stud… But ah, it doesn't matter, maybe I just left it at home," I got up, letting my eyes glance at the room below us for just a millisecond.

To my relief, he wasn't there.

"Yeah, maybe. Anyways I was just looking for you," Tracy said, throwing me a side-glance as we made our way to my office.

"Yeah?"

"How did it go yesterday? I mean with the crazy-looking one."

I knew that tone. It was laced with gossip-hunger.

"Which one?" I asked jokingly.

"Okay, let me rephrase, the crazy-hot-looking one."

"It was late, didn't get much out of him," I shrugged. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. I hadn't really even tried.

"You seeing him today?" Tracy kept going on with her interrogation.

"I think."

"Good, I wanna hear everything afterwards. Maybe he's actually innocent and charming under that bad-boy surface," Tracy's voice was full of hope.

"I highly doubt that." Actually I knew that for a fact that he wasn't.

...

As the day went on, so did my headache. I might have been crazy, but I couldn't help but see a correlation between that and my planned 'meeting' with Happy.

A minute after three, there was a knock on the door. I flew out of my chair to open it, cause for some reason I just couldn't form the words to say that the door was in fact already open.

"Your three o'clock," the guard from yesterday said.

I nodded, letting my eyes settle on Happy's face for just a fracture of a second.

Much to my surprise, he had left his smirk back into his cell, and was sporting a clear look of boredom instead.

The guard pushed him inside and made sure he had no means to move his hands, before leaving us alone.

Oh, how I would have loved to just wait the hour out with that deafening silence, but sadly that was the opposite of what I was supposed to do.

"So…" I walked to my side of the desk and sat down, "I'm getting straight to the point now."

He didn't say a thing, actually he didn't react any way at all. Frankly I wasn't even sure if he was listening.

"Your hearing is soon and the input of our sessions will influence quite a bit, so just for your own sake, work with me, okay?" I had to squint my eyes not to visibly wince from the pain that had moved from my temples to my ears.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked in a casual tone, looking somewhere over my head.

"I'm not sure of what you're talking about, so let's just stick to the important stuff," I tried to smile. God, it was hard to force on a smile, if the person you were trying to be civil with was always either burning your panties or your nerves with that dark gaze of his. It was even harder, when your head was trying to blow itself apart.

"Why'd you hide?" his expression had shifted to the terrain of amusement.

Why oh why did he have to make this so hard?

"I didn't hide.. I dropped something," I shrugged, full well knowing that my face was not confirming any of the stuff I'd just said.

"What? Your jaw? Panties?" his raspy voice suggested.

I couldn't help but snort out loud. "That was so bad. I mean how can someone be so full of himself? Geez, not everyone thinks you're irresistible, okay."

"But you do," the certainty in his tone was baffling.

"And you think that because?" I knew he was bating me, but I just couldn't keep myself from playing along.

"I could smell your fear the first time we met."

"Fear equals attraction? Wow, that's one hell of a theory you got there. But even if it could work in some cases, I'm really sorry to crash your hopes and dreams, buddy, but I wasn't afraid of you, I was afraid of that buzzing needle in your hands."

"I can also tell when you're lying," his flaming eyes were doing bad things to my already struggling brain.

"So can I, wanna see? I don't even need to see your face." Against the pain caused fogginess that was clouding my judgment, I knew that this was my best shot to innocently get a closer, meaning mindreading, look at his brain.

"What, you want me to lie to you?" he raised his eyebrow.

"No, that would defeat the purpose, let me decide whether you're lying or not," I stood up, feeling a faint blush reach my cheeks as his eyes blatantly raked over my body.

_You've done so good this far, no reason to lose your cool now._

"For example tell me the story behind your imprisonment and I'll decide whether or not you're in fact telling the truth," I stopped behind him, anxiously waiting for his decision.

"You think you're clever, don't you," he chuckled.

"No, I think I'm a human lie detector. Just try me out to see for yourself," I said with a smirk of my own. That smirk however lasted just as long as my brain caught up with the double meaning of my stupid words.

It was a perfect opportunity for a remark, but he kept quiet… Which was odd.

"Just tell me something," I let my hands fall on his shoulders.

The dull and constant pain that had been moving from one place to another the whole day was suddenly everywhere. It was so strong that I couldn't see, nor hear a thing… and that's where it all went black.

…

Happy's POV:

I didn't expect her to actually touch me. Then again I also didn't expect her to instantly pull her hands away after the brief contact, as if I'd somehow burned her delicate palms.

But in matter of seconds, both of those things had actually happened.

Just as well as her letting out a short shriek of pain before falling down behind me.

"Doc?" I tried to turn my head, but all I could see was her limp body.

"Shit," I muttered, trying to pull myself free, but it was useless.

"Guards?" I yelled out, unsure of what to do.

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><p>Thank you for reading!<p>

Hope you liked this. But even if you didn't, let me know what you think. :)


	8. Something different

Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of original storylines and characters, or anything else that you might recognize.

* * *

><p>Happy's POV:<p>

"What happened to her?" the guard who was kneeling over her demanded. Or more like shouted.

"The hell I know, I can't even see her fucking face from here," I muttered, angry at the guard, at her, and for some strange reason at myself as well.

"Ricky, you there?" I heard the guard ask over the walky-talky.

"_Yes?"_

"Something's wrong with doctor Jones, come help me get her to the infirmary. Bring someone else as well to take Lowman back to his cell."

"_Roger that."_

I sat totally still, although a part my brain was really itching to break my own neck, just to see what was going on behind my back. Was she even alive? I sure as hell couldn't hear her breathing or moving or anything really.

As the other guards eventually came and freed me from the table, I was finally able to glance at Clair, just as she was carried out the door. Her face was ghostly in more than one way. It wasn't just the color that contrasted her dark eyelashes, it was also the weird baffled expression on her face, making it look as if she was seeing something out of the ordinary, even as in reality she could not have possibly been seeing anything at all.

All too soon I was back in my cell, the door shut tightly behind my back. As much as I tried, I couldn't shake the strange feeling off my back. It should not have mattered to me in the slightest, but for some reason I just couldn't help but think about what the hell had just happened, and even more importantly… was she okay?

…

Clair's POV:

It was his last day here. But for the life of me I couldn't make up my mind about whether it was a good or a bad thing.

Of course the reasonable part of me knew it was a good thing, for both of us. He was going to be free, at last. I guess there's no need to explain why that course of action might be considered good, right?

And I … well I was going to get back to my normal life. I mean not having to see him on a tight schedule was for sure at least going leave room for things to get back to normal. And by normal I mean getting to finally forget all about him, about our interactions, about the frightening feelings he was stirring up in me. Cause let's be honest, he was literally driving me crazy in more than one way… _and_ crazypeople in general were not the ones to help out other people in that exact area. At least they should not be.

So I guess the good part of my brain was totally on the 'woohoo!' side of things.

But then again there was this slightly sad part. A part that was almost disappointed in the prospect of not getting those hours of day, spent with just him. Even as it was mostly me trying to get him into talking and then blushing so vigorously that I might have resembled a tomato after he finally did by throwing back some snarky, yet totally panty-dropping remark.

Also there was this one time I saw something so sincere in his eyes, I remember almost thinking it was another one of _those. _But it wasn't. It was real and it warmed my heart, even as I fought my hardest to not let the emotion cloud over my face. It was after the first _incident. _Specifically the very next time we met after I so gracefully collapsed behind him.

Even as he did say something like 'You planning on face-planting this time as well?", I could somehow tell, even without reading his mind, that he was relieved to see me. Not that I would have even dared to touch him after the incident, I don't know why or how, but I simply knew that he was the one who had triggered it.

So as I listened to the clock move in snail-pace, I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a skirt, though not exactly office style, it was more like a fly dangerously around your knees kind of a type and on top I wore a chiffon blouse, tucked neatly into the black and white skirt.

Just on time the door opened, and his eyes were on me in an instant. During our meetings I'd finally gotten used to his cold, yet smoldering stare.

We were both quiet. At first it was because the guard seemed to have been especially slow with leaving the room. But after he left, neither one of us still made a sound.

As I finally emerged from the state of silence I gave him a small smile, "I guess this is the last time you're going to sit here, across from me. At least I hope you won't end up back here."

"Have I tired you, doc?" he smirked, the raspiness of his voice making my head spin just a little.

_Get it together!_

"I wouldn't say this here is or should be about my state of interest in you," I said, holding his gaze, "I'd rather discuss _your_ interest in _your_ future this time. Do you see yourself ending back inside this penitentiary at some point?"

"Penitentiary… such a fancy word for such a shitty place. And to answer your question, then I don't hand out my hard-earned money to fortunetellers nor do I practice something as stupid myself, so no, I do not _see _anything in my future. What happens, happens. That's what life is."

"So you think you have no control over what happens in your life?" I raised my eyebrows.

He scoffed, "No need to read that much out of it, I'm simply saying that I live in the moment."

After all the hours we'd spent in my office I was finally starting to feel like I was seeing at least slightly behind those dark eyes. And as much as it scared me, I found that even as I couldn't relate to it, I did understand it. At some level I might have even found myself respecting him for the way he chose to go through life, with such confidence in his present self, even if it was at times misleading.

"I wish I could say the same," I blurted out.

"What's stopping you from going after what you want, right this moment?" he asked with a dark glint in his eyes.

"I.. I don't know. Everything?" I for a second totally forgot the positon he was in and the positon I was in. How had it gone from me leading the conversation, to him making me feel like I was being the one on the receiving end?

"Tell me what you want. Not in some distant future. Right now. What's the one thing you wish you could do right this second?" he had at some point leaned forward on the table.

And as it turned out, so had I.

"Um..," I swallowed, totally confused and disoriented. There was only one thought going through my head. And as bad as the idea was, I really… _really_ wanted to kiss him. Just this once.

And the fact that I knew that he would for sure give it a green light was really making me struggle to remain silent and calm.

From the way the corner of his mouth rose just a little, I could feel that he knew what was going on in my head. _Shit. _Of course he knew. As the way that I could tell that his lips had curved, I must have been staring at his mouth this whole time.

I was getting hot all over, from excitement, as well as from embarrassment.

As I couldn't find anything else to cover up my face with, I reached for the cup of water, and started drinking from it as slowly as possible.

"If you're afraid to say it out loud, come closer and whisper it in my ear. I mean who do I have to tell? It will be our little secret," he made an innocent face.

I was still holding the cup to my face, but the cover it was providing was not enough, so not enough in fact that I couldn't even bare to sit there across from him a minute longer. So without really thinking about it, I sprinted up.

He smirked and leaned back on his chair, the chain that was securing him to the table making a loud noise as he did.

As I found myself walking around the table, his head motioned to the edge just beside him.

And as an obedient dog, I behaved just like he suggested.

The next thing I could register, I was leaning toward him, rapidly thinking about something to whisper in his ear. _I wish I was… hmm… having a vacation… no… dancing… no… what? Oh god… _

Though as soon as my head was next to his, he turned and wrapped his lush lips around mine. As I started pulling away, I felt his tongue dance on my lower lip. Instinctively I opened up my mouth just enough to grant him he access he was aiming for.

This was not going to end well.

…

My eyes flew open, as if someone had shocked me. The dull pain was still strumming in my head, but it was nothing compared to what had kicked me down.

I remembered the dream vividly. Absolutely everything about it. I could even remember the way his lips tasted, the way I couldn't do a thing to stop him. Nor did I _actually_ want to.

But it wasn't really a dream. I could tell that too. It was something else, I was so sure of it.

Of course it wasn't a memory and neither was it something I heard from someone else's brain.

The word 'vision' flashed before my eyes.

I must have taken in a sharp breath, as the doctor instantly pushed his head trough the green curtain.

"Oh no," I mumbled, violently pressing my eyes shut, trying to wake up from what must have still been a dream I was seeing.

But as I reopened my eyes, everything was exactly the same.

I wasn't one hundred percent sure of what I'd seen being a vision of sorts, but I _was _sure that it hadn't been just a random dream.

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><p>Hope you enjoyed it! Would love hearing back from you. I know it's been a long time since I updated this, but I do hope I haven't lost all my readers.<p>

Anyways as always thank you so much for reading!


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